The Seven Seas Sagas
These are the voyages of HMS Rigid.
Our continuing mission:
To maintain the safety and sovereignty
of the blessed United Kingdom of British Islands.
To seek out and destroy enemies of the
state without compunction, hesitation or mercy.
To boldly repel all boarders, all aliens
and any other filthy non tax paying scum we encounter.
EPISODE 42: ‘POKEMON POKEMOV’
Rear Admiral Thundertosser’s Log
The Bridge, HMS Rigid
Position – Mediterranean Sea
Somewhere south of Gibraltar, possibly
that bit too close to Morocco .
It’s the day. At sea.
The midday sun is hot. Too hot. Hot enough to toast ship’s
biscuits. Consequently, I have ordered chef to fill the starboard scupper with
enough ship’s biscuits to treat the crew to a toasty ship’s biscuit party.
Something they deserve this after this long, hard and dangerous deployment. Good for morale. It will make a pleasant alternative to toasting our marshmallows with ship’s welding gear.
Something they deserve this after this long, hard and dangerous deployment. Good for morale. It will make a pleasant alternative to toasting our marshmallows with ship’s welding gear.
I am baking on the bridge of HMS
Rigid. I think my muffins will soon be ready to come out of the oven. I am also
very hot. Sticky with sweat, especially in the underpants area. I am forced to
adopt the bowed, legs slightly apart stance, as promulgated by naval
regulations. This avoids unwanted scrotal sac adhesion should an emergency arise.
The muffins are needed for an unscheduled top secret
briefing from Vice Admiral McDuffear, Royal Naval Intelligence, Hunt and
Destroy Division. No doubt with sealed orders.
Orders that will, no doubt, require myself and my men to be put into danger. Deadly danger, I have no doubt.
Orders that will, no doubt, require myself and my men to be put into danger. Deadly danger, I have no doubt.
Pleased to note in the log that despite the heat, Petty
Officer Tongs and Midshipman Stonkly are up the fo'c'sle, lashed at their
stanchions and ready to repel all boarders.
We’re still no nearer to getting the sea to relinquish her boarder secrets, but we strive to tame and appease her by making daily sacrifice of gash over the side. Today she will receive burned muffins and unwanted hot ship’s biscuits
We’re still no nearer to getting the sea to relinquish her boarder secrets, but we strive to tame and appease her by making daily sacrifice of gash over the side. Today she will receive burned muffins and unwanted hot ship’s biscuits
But wait. Who approaches? Is it the enemy?
No. It is Able Seaman Blowpipe with my cocoa.
Thundertosser:
How now, Blowpipe? How goes the watch?
Blowpipe:
Just wound it up, sir. Sorry about your cocoa, sir, I dropped the
watch into it, sir, and it’s gone a bit brown.
Thundertosser:
You blundering jackanapes, Blowpipe. What if Vice Admiral
McDuffear wants to know the time? I can hardly show him this, can I?
Blowpipe:
No, sir. It will look like you did a number two all over it, sir,
and forgot to wash it.
Thundertosser:
Number Two? Officers don’t do those, Blowpipe, you blithering
idiot. No. He’ll more likely think you were the person that did it and you’ll
get fingered.
Blowpipe:
Oooo. Sorry, sir. I was distracted, sir. I think it’s the heat.
Thundertosser:
Distracted?
Blowpipe:
I was wondering why, on a hot day, sir, all the flies gather in
the middle of a hotel lobby, buzzing around the lamp. I mean they could go
anywhere, couldn’t they, sir? And yet, there they are, mindlessly buzzing about, banging each other. You could open your mouth, walk forward and get a gob full,
sir.
Thundertosser:
Shut up, Blowpipe and stop dreaming about putting your mouth near
flies, for heaven’s sake. You’ll need to keep your wits about you in front of
Vice Admiral McDuffear. He’s as sharp as Cleopatra’s needle.
Blowpipe:
Sharp, sir? With a name like that I assumed he was deaf, sir.
Thundertosser:
What? You insubordinate scoundrel. Deaf? Of course he’s not deaf.
Blind as a bat, though.
Stonkly (from the fo’c’sle):
Attention on deck. Pipe him aboard.
Thundertosser:
Right, here he comes, Blowpipe. Now pay attention and refrain from
any more fly related fantasy.
Blowpipe:
Right you are, sir.
Thundertosser:
Admiral McDuffear, welcome aboard. Attention on the bridge.
McDuffear:
Stand easy. Nice to see you again, Thundertosser.
Blowpipe:
Ah, excuse me, Admiral, that’s the bridge port hole. The Rear
Admiral is over here, sir.
McDuffear:
Course he is, course he is. Blast these new glasses, can’t see a
bloody thing.
Thundertosser:
Bringing up the rear, Admiral, manning the bridge oven.
McDuffear:
Excellent. Are those muffins I can smell, Thundertosser? Chocolate
chip muffins?
Thundertosser:
They are Admiral, I thought I’d whip up a batch. I know how
partial you are to a stuffed muffin. Are you sniggering, Blowpipe?
Blowpipe:
No sir. Bit of grit. In the eye, sir.
McDuffear:
Damned nuisance. Grit getting shot in the eye. Happened to me
twenty years ago while on a reconnaissance mission in a French brothel; never
recovered. Still never mind that, down
to business. Now, Thundertosser. Bit of a flap on. Whitehall . Top secret orders. Storm cones
hoisted. Man the battle stations. That sort of thing.
Thundertosser:
Yes, Admiral. HMS Rigid is standing by; ready to repel all
boarders.
McDuffear:
Ah, yes, but these particular enemies of the state are slightly
more, how can I put it…unusual? Out of the ordinary, so to speak.
Thundertosser:
Not your common tax evading immigrant scum from Europe ,
then?
McDuffear:
Ah, no. Not to put too fine a point on it, these are alien invaders,
Thundertosser. Ministry gave me this book to help you locate them.
Blowpipe:
What does it say, sir?
Thundertosser:
‘The Observer’s Book of Pokemon-Go’, Blowpipe.
McDuffear:
Correct, Thundertosser. Alien invaders. An absolute menace to the
British way of life. They must be hunted and exterminated.
Blowpipe:
But I read recently that Pokemon-Go helped nerdy inner city
slugabeds become more active in the real world. They actually started to
interact with other members of the public. That it was good for fitness and
helped the socially maladjusted, sir. Begging, your pardon, sir.
McDuffear:
Nonsense. A tissue of lies and deceit spread by enemy agents from
Lichtenstein and Poland .
They must be destroyed and I’m deploying this ship to seek and destroy, as of
now. These Pokemon are public enemy number one as far as the First Sea Lord is
concerned.
Thundertosser:
Yes, shut up, Blowpipe, you insubordinate wretch. How do we start,
Admiral? Is it in this top secret book?
McDuffear:
How should I know? I can’t bloody read with these glasses, can I?
Blowpipe:
Allow me, sir. I attended a school near Brest
in Brittany
and can, therefore, read reasonably well. It says here: ‘Nidoking. With his thick tail he
can topple a metal tower. Once he gets in a rage, there’s no stopping him.’
Thundertosser:
Thick tail? I don’t like the sound of that at all, Blowpipe.
Blowpipe:
Me neither, sir. I prefer long and thin, sir. Oh my word, sir, it
says that Nidorino has a horn harder than a diamond, sir. And I don’t like the
sound of Sandslash one little bit, sir.
McDuffear:
What the blazes are you blithering on about, Able Seaman? Those
are land Pokemon, for heaven’s sake. We’re only likely to encounter the seafaring
types, such as Poliwhirl, Tentacruel and Kingler.
Blowpipe:
Oh, that’s a relief, sir. They sound much nicer.
Thundertosser:
Yes. All they do is emit a wet, slick, slimy fluid.
Blowpipe:
Sounds positively heavenly, sir.
Thundertosser:
Shut up, Blowpipe, you mutinous moron. Now, Admiral, how do we
locate these alien scum?
McDuffear:
It is most difficult because they’re alien shapeshifters. We have
to turn on our mobile phones and wave them around a bit.
Thundertosser:
Where, Admiral?
McDuffear:
I suggest over there. At that Russian frigate that’s bearing down at top speed with its guns trained on us.
Thundertosser:
You’re right, Admiral. There’s a Tentacruel on their quarterdeck,
right now. Blowpipe. Hard a-port. Ramming speed. Stand by to open fire.
Blowpipe:
Hard a-port it is, sir! Ramming speed!
Meanwhile. On the fo'c'sle.
Tongs:
Oh dear. Another international incident.
Stonkly:
Quiet, Tongs, you blithering idiot!
Tongs:
Sorry, sir. Just trying to disentangle my legs from this Russian
block and tackle, sir. Can you smell burning muffins, sir?
Stonkly:
Shut up, Tongs and mind your stanchion.
Tongs:
Right you are, sir. Do you think the Russians will complain, sir?
Stonkly:
How should I know? Rear Admiral Thundertosser raised an Italian
flag at the last moment. That should do the trick.
Tongs:
Who was in command of that Russian frigate, sir?
Stonkly:
Counter Admiral Sergei Blindokov, I think.
Tongs:
Isn’t he as deaf as a post, sir?
Stonkly:
Yes. Excellent eyesight, though; he will have spotted that flag no
problem at all.
Tongs:
Oh look, sir!
Stonkly:
What is it now, Tongs, you blabbering fool?
Tongs:
Pikachu, sir. Just hovering above the water, sir. Port side.
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